Dead, Again
by amycakes
Summary: After he wakes from his most recent death Alaric wonders why he can't seem to stop caring about these damn vampires. Dalaric
1. Dead, Again

**Disclaimer:** Own nothing.

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><p><em>Dead, Again.<em>

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><p>He struggled to open his eyes. His head was pounding the way it always did when he was brought back to life and his neck was throbbing sharpy, an unpleasant reminder of how exactly he'd been killed. It wasn't the first time he'd had his neck snapped – it seemed to be the method of choice for angry, homocidal vampires. It was however the first time he'd felt like this.<p>

He was kicking himself more than anything. Kicking himself for thinking that maybe, just maybe there was any sort of redeemable quality left in Damon Salvatore. That the vampire had emotions.

He squinted as he forced himself to take in his surroundings... the boarding house. Great.

"Took a bit longer than usual huh?" The blurry form of the older Salvatore joked in front of him. "Might want to get that ring checked, hope it's not going bad." For a second he wished it was. He wished he had truly died and wondered if it would make any difference to Damon whatsoever. Would he care if he'd truly killed him?

No. He didn't believe he would.

"You killed me." He ground out, glaring at the vampire's nonchalant behaviour.

"You pissed me off."

Alaric glared incredulously. "You killed me!" He yelled, wishing he wasn't as hurt as he sounded. Why did he care so much? It was just another time he got screwed over by another vampire. Happened all the time right? In fact, he couldn't seem to care about anyone who wasn't dead.

"Ric, no hard feelings alright?" Damon seemingly tried to placate him, his unconcerned tone doing exactly the opposite. "I was on a bit of a tear, everyone was telling me how to behave."

Alaric snorted. "Well maybe they finally realised you're just a dick." He couldn't help it. He had a right to be angry, he tried to tell himself as he stormed out of the house. It wasn't as if he was acting like an angsty teenage girl or something right? He had every right to shove Damon's debilitating vampirism in his face – his inability to give a shit about anyone.

He was still telling himself this six drinks later at The Mystic Grill. His usual cure of bourbon and brooding hadn't helped him out in the least. He was still angry. Angry at Damon for killing him, angry at himself for caring at all – angry at his pathetic life for continuing to throw him these curveballs.

Fuming in his usual seat, he signalled the bartender for another before letting out a heavy sigh, elbows on the bar, resting his head in his hands.

"Come on, Ric. Don't be such a little girl." How was it that he could always, _always_ hit the nail on the head. And what the hell was he doing here anyway? Couldn't he just leave him to drown his sorrows in peace?

"Fuck off, Damon." He didn't bother to move his gaze from the glossy surface of the bar. He didn't need to see that self-satisfied smirk that was a trademark in itself. There wasn't going to be any sort of apology and Alaric didn't have it in him to forgive and forget. Not this time. Enough was enough. Enough of these vampires that thought they could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. There was a reason he was a vampire hunter in the first place.

"Ric!" Damon growled, seemingly frustrated and Alaric finally moved his eyes upward.

"No Damon," he spat. "You don't get to be frustrated, or angry." He watched as one eyebrow raised sardonically in true Damon fashion.

"You're seriously going to sit here and angst over the fact that I killed you? I knew you wouldn't die, what's the problem?" The usual snark would have made him smirk on a normal day but not today, today had just been too much.

"We were supposed to be _friends_ Damon. I trusted you. And you killed me. I was the only friend you had in this town – you don't kill friends Damon!" He began to attract attention, his voice reverbating in his throat with emotion, coming out louder than he intended.

"Oh please," the brunette scoffed, "don't act like you wouldn't kill me if it suited you Alaric. Don't think I've forgotten your occupation." He hissed. He was glaring back darkly now and the vampire hunter had no doubt that his hands were twitching under the bar with the strain of holding himself back from snapping his neck yet again.

"That's the difference between me and you." He spat, standing up and throwing a fifty on the bar. "I actually give a shit what happens to you." The words left his mouth before he had a chance to think and he faltered as he felt heat rise to his face. Stubbornly, he turned on his heel and made a hasty retreat from the bar.

He didn't get far before he was shoved from behind and he stumbled down the gutter and onto the street.

"Don't act like you care." Damon hissed, shoving the history teacher a second time as he turned to face him.

Sick of being pushed and finally at his limit Alaric swung his arm out, catching Damon across the face and causing him to stumble back a few steps.

"Don't act like you _don't_!" He yelled. "You always like to pretend you don't care about anything or anyone. But yet, you still can't let your brother die. You'd go up against Klaus to save him so obviously you care about him! And what about Elena? Sweet, kind Elena, you'd never lay a finger on her. Because you care about her." The hunter felt drained as he ranted at the vampire, waving his hands in the air, heart beating erratically. "The only one you don't care about, it seems, is me. And I was stupid to expect it." He spat before turning to walk away, for good this time.

With a second and a blur there was someone in front of him, blocking his way again and he groaned. Why couldn't he just leave him be.

"Are you seriously telling me you're angry with me because I care about Elena?" The vampire asked quietly, looking puzzled.

Alaric groaned in exasperation. "No Damon, I'm not. I'm not angry with you at all." He spoke through grit teeth, closing his eyes. "I'm dissapointed that you don't care about me." He ground out, shoving passed the vampire with his shoulder, feeling humiliated.

"You don't know anything Alaric." He heard quietly from behind him. "You have no idea."

The hunter allowed his steps to falter for a second but forced himself to keep moving. He couldn't do this again, not with another vampire.


	2. Looking for an Apology, Again

**Disclaimer:** Own nothing.

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><p><em>Dead, Again.<em>

_(Looking for an Apology. Again.)  
><em>

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><p>Alaric couldn't believe that here he was, again, in the Mystic Grille with Damon Salvatore sitting beside him, nonchalantly asking Ric to join him for a drink because they 'had trouble'. Why he didn't just get up and walk away was beyond him.<p>

Seriously. All he needed to do was slide off the stool, put one foot in front of the other and march himself right out of this establishment and forget that vampires ever existed. But of course he didn't. Because one look was all that was needed, one look into icy blue eyes and he was reeled in hook, line and sinker.

"No." He replied resolutely and for a moment he could be proud of himself. "You've got trouble," he continued. "See, we're not a team!" He pointed between them. "You tried to kill me, alright? We're not friends. I don't like you anymore." He turned back to his drink sombrely, still feeling a little accomplished after his rant.

"Now we both know that's not true." There was that sardonic smirk that he detested so much. Even in his own head he knew he was lying though. That smirk... "You still _like_ me." Damon finished and Alaric let jaw drop open for a second before snapping it shut and turning away.

"No." He murmured quietly, "I don't." Staring into his glass they both knew that was a lie.

"Well," Damon continued pleasantly, "remember back when you did and we conspired to kill uncle werewolf Mason Lockwood?"

Alaric nodded, confused. "Yeah, and?" Where exactly was Damon going with this?

"I think he's still a little pissed."

Alaric studied the vampire closely for a second. "Are you drunk?" He frowned, noting that not a hair was out of place on the brunette.

He only got an eye roll in response and a minute later he nearly fell off his stool when Mason Lockwood himself strolled into the bar, getting a drink and smashing the glass over Damon's head. All he could do was stare in shock. A dead werewolf just shattered a glass over Damon's head.

The vampire was wincing, hand coming up to hold his forehead when Alaric realised that this must be a part of the ghost issue and felt a little silly for taking so long to reach that conclusion. To be fair though he had been distracted.

"Told ya." Damon muttered and Alaric remained silent, still staring, eyes wide.

They sat for a minute, he and Damon staring as the dead werewolf sipped a new glass of whiskey before Damon finally snapped.

"Let's get to it. I killed you, you want revenge – get in line." That about summed it up Alaric thought to himself sarcastically before his eyes widened at Mason's next words.

"I want an apology."

He just about spat out his drink. As it was he laughed out loud before turning to lean passed Damon and say sarcastically, "good luck with that." He rolled his eyes to himself. Really? An apology out of Damon? Like that was ever going to happen and even if it did it wouldn't be sincere anyway. He only half listened as they began to argue about Tyler, still mulling over the fact that Mason wanted an apology from Damon.

He smiled amusedly. If anyone deserved an apology it was him. But that sure as hell wasn't going to happen.

He tuned back in when Mason reiterated, "I know...you need to apologize." and Damon replied typically with an, "are you kidding me?"

He turned around and snapped, resisting the urge to push the vampire off his barstool. "Are you incapable of remorse? Just apologize!" He yelled, gripping his glass of scotch tightly.

Damon turned, eyes narrowing, looking at him contemplatively. "This isn't about Mason." He said, realisation shining through his tone. "This is about you, and me. And whatever _this_ is we've got going on here." Damon waved his arms in the air, glaring at the vampire hunter and forgetting momentarily about the werewolf that started this conversation.

"Don't be stupid." He muttered, refusing to look up from the bar top he'd seemingly become so interested in lately.

"Ric," Damon groaned. "Don't be difficult." And for a minute he allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe the vampire cared. But no, he'd been down this road before and he wouldn't do it again.

"I'm not. Just apologize to Mason and let's move on with this." He left the two to their conversation moving up a few barstools and ordering another drink. He really needed to put some distance between them.

"I didn't have to kill you. I do a lot of things I don't have to do." He heard Damon saying and groaned mentally. That was about as much of an apology as you'd get out of him, the bastard. He was surprised to hear the werewolf accept the apology and tell Damon to meet him at the Lockwood cellar. His brow furrowed in confusion. They'd been to the old Lockwood cellar before when all the werewolf stuff first started, there was nothing there, right?

He noticed Mason shooting him a sidewards glance as he left and felt Damon's presence next to him. "I'll meet you there." He said monotonously, refusing to look at him. It seemed like Damon didn't mind too much because the next minute he was gone.

It could have been another hour before he finally stood from the bar, signalling for his drinks to be put on his tab and heading out to his car. Great, traipsing through the woods at night. Sometimes being a vampire hunter really sucked, especially in 'everything bad must happen here' Mystic Falls.

He was glad he'd decided not to attend the lighting ceremony after all because to be honest he really didn't give a shit today what he was or wasn't supposed to do. He'd felt like that most of the time lately actually and unfortunately people were beginning to pick up on it.

As he walked down the stairs to the cellar already freezing from the cold outside he found the wall smashed in and figured that was where they'd gone. Slowly he wound his way through what appeared to be underground tunnels, ignoring the historian in him that told him to stop and investigate.

Eventually Damon came into his sight leaning against a wall up ahead.

"You're here, it's about time."

Alaric scowled at that – maybe he just shouldn't have come at all.

"Didn't have anyone else you could call?" He snapped sarcastically, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"No, actually, I didn't." Damon replied predictably before continuing, "because I need a non-vampire to get into the cave and other than Elena you're pretty much the only one I trust."

Alaric tried to ignore the feeling that rose in his chest at that but the look Damon sent him said his face had given it away anyway.

"Well you have a crappy way of showing that." He glared at the vampire, standing his ground and wondering why exactly he was helping him in the first place. Oh right, because he couldn't help himself.

"Look," Damon started again, "if Mason Lockwood can-," He was cut off as Alaric finally reached boiling point.

"I'm sick of hearing about Mason, fuck!" He yelled, throwing his arms in the air. He started to walk away deciding that helping Damon really wasn't worth the effort when the vampire spoke from behind him.

"Sometimes I do things I don't have to do-," He didn't get very far before Alaric cut him off again which was probably a good thing because he was only digging himself a deeper hole.

"You're seriously gonna recycle that same crap ass apology you gave Mason Lockwood?" Ric was seething. Was he really on the same level as Mason in Damon's mind? Considered with the same amount of emotion as some annoying werewolf that he killed?

"Ye-no." Damon cut himself off this time under Alaric's glare. "No." He said resolutely, moving to stand in front of the vampire hunter. "I'm not." As hard as Alaric tried he couldn't help but be drawn into icy blue eyes once again. He was that captivated he almost missed the end of Damon's sentence.

"Because you're more important than that."

Alaric stared in wonder. Did he really just hear that correctly?

"Wait, what?" He could have killed himself for officially ruining the moment with his stupidity. Obviously Damon felt the same way because he rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

He didn't know what happened, one minute he was watching the vampire walk away and the next he was pulling him back by the arm and leaning up to kiss him. He pushed Damon backwards into the cave wall, surprised when hands came up to grip his hips, pulling him in.

He didn't know what it was about these vampires but he just couldn't help himself.

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><p><strong>AN: **Just a little something because I couldn't help myself. The TVD muse won't leave me alone.


	3. Feeling Unappreciated, Again

**Disclaimer:** Own nothing.

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><p><em>Dead, Again.<em>

_(Feeling Unappreciated. Again.)  
><em>

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><p>"Why is it that every time I look over I see you with her?" Alaric turned at the slow drawl to find Damon sneering at him over a glass of scotch.<p>

"With who?" He played the oblivious card, raising an eyebrow and throwing his arms across his chest.

They were at the benefit gala for that damn bridge and he had gone outside to get some air, sick and tired of all the grandstanding by the residents of Mystic Falls. None of them wanted to hear about that stupid bridge – it killed Elena's parents for christ's sakes.

Yeah, he wasn't having the best night.

"Don't play dumb Alaric, the Fell girl." Damon's voice had a hard edge to it now and to Alaric it was revealing. That tone told you whether he was truly angry about something or just irritated. Right now, he was fuming. Good.

"Oh, you mean Meredith." It was hard for him to contain the smirk that desperately wanted to appear on his lips. "We were just having a chat Damon, why does that bother you?"

It was a shame that Damon could see right through him because he really would have liked to have had him going for longer. He received a sharp look for his last comment and realisation dawned in the vampire's eyes.

"You're trying to make me jealous!" The brunette exclaimed and Alaric couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"Why would I do that Damon?" He shook his head but kept his eyes locked on the ground. "Seriously, Meredith and I were just talking."

"Sure," Damon scoffed, "you and the good doctor have so many things in common, of course."

Ric just shrugged and turned to walk away. "I can't help how you feel Damon." He left with a self-satisfied smirk knowing that Damon's jaw was left hung open behind him.

"Okay, hold up!" The vampire moved to block his retreat in a flash and Alaric looked around, concerned at Damon's brash use of his supernatural abilities – you never knew who was around to see these days.

"What did I do?" The brunette began calculatingly. "How exactly did I piss you off?"

Ric shrugged, not wanting to admit that Damon had hit the nail on the head with his assumptions. He felt bad really. If Damon wanted to flirt around with Elena then he could, that was fine really. She needed someone to rebound with after Stefan anyway.

He winced at that. Even in his own thoughts he was terrible. Seriously though Elena deserved to be happy any way she could and he was supposed to be like a guardian to her. He was supposed to look out for her, not play petty games with her prospective boyfriend just because he was..._jealous_.

"Seriously Damon, you're imagining things – go find Elena." He didn't even get to turn around fully this time before he was caught in a tight grip once again.

"So that's what this is about."

He cursed god for the fact that to vampires, Alaric Saltzman was made of glass – they could see right through him. Especially Damon Salvatore.

Damon stared down at him seriously, icy blue eyes boring into his. "Don't flirt with Fell again, okay?"

Alaric rolled his eyes at this, making one last ditch effort to get away with his little game unscathed. "Why?" He asked sarcastically, only to be silenced minutes later by Damon's lips on his as he pulled him back sharply behind a pylon on the porch and out of view of the other guests. His back against the brick pillar he moaned as Damon pressed against him.

The vampire pulled back then to answer his previous, sarcastic question. "Because it's working. Consider me jealous."

Alaric liked winning.

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><p>Damn this Meredith Fell girl is going to annoy me. Plus, I'm totally positive she's evil. For real.<p> 


	4. When Ric Needs Saving, Again

**Disclaimer:** I so poor.

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><p><em>Dead, Again.<em>

_(When Ric Needs Saving, Again.)  
><em>

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><p>Alaric liked to think that he'd been through enough shit in his life that he wouldn't jump at just any sudden noise or movement. That didn't include the toaster of course because that was just fucking inevitable. He would have however believed himself above hearing things when home alone.<p>

Apparently not.

He was a little on edge lately though with all the council members being picked off one by one – with _his_ weapons no less. Their were just some things you couldn't help but not want to know and the fact that the murderer was in _this_ house, in Damon's car...even in his office at the school – it was all just a little too creepy stalker for him.

He didn't want to believe that it was Meredith Fell, to be honest despite the fact that he wasn't into her like he'd led Damon to believe, she had been nice to him when they'd spoken and she was another person in on the whole vampire secret.

He wanted _friends_. Friends who knew what he really did and tat he could talk to about all the fucked up shit that goes on in this town and when he finally finds someone he thinks can be that friend to him, she turns out to be a nut case.

He was eighty percent convinced that it was her killing these people. The ex-boyfriend that called her a psycho turning up dead? That was a coincidence, but now Caroline's father in the hospital where she worked? And all these murders with his own weapons...she _was_ strangely interested in him. He'd put it off as a romantic interest that he had unfortunately led on, but now it was looking more and more like a crazed psycho interest.

He'd still be the last to accept it though, unable to help holding out hope for a somewhat normal friend he could share all his secrets with – and he needed one these days. His days had been pretty much Damon free since the Wickery Bridge Fundraiser and that was putting him in a bit of a foul mood he had to admit.

He wasn't some screwed up vampire stunted with feelings, he could easily admit that he missed Damon. He wanted him around but unfortunately, as usual, Elena came first to Damon. He felt bitter about it but only hated himself even more for feeling this way at all. He should want the best for Elena, he should want her to have friends or...a _boyfriend_ or...whatever Damon was to her.

Jenna would be ashamed of him.

He was all Elena had left, her guardian now and here he was moping over the fact that someone cared about her more than him – he was a terrible person.

Ric sighed, leaning back against the couch, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He heard a door creak somewhere and shot up, ramrod straight before shaking his head and sinking back down into the cushions. It was worse that he knew the weapons were coming from his own stashes because there _would_ actually be a viable reason for the killer to enter his house.

His mind span for a minute over the prospect of Meredith being the psycho killer before he groaned, getting up from his seat to wander into the kitchen in pursuit of alcohol. Yeah, he was a terrible guardian.

Elena was out comforting her best friend who's father was dying, probably reliving memories about not only her mother and father's death, but her _biological_ mother and father's deaths, not to mention Jenna's...God! That girl had been through so much, he should be calling her to see if she needed a lift home, or waiting up to comfort her when she came home distraught.

But he couldn't.

Alaric couldn't sit around waiting to comfort someone else because he wasn't alright either. He _needed_ someone to be there for him too. But there wasn't, so he simply took a glass from the top shelf and reached into the cupboard for his bottle of whiskey.

He was a _terrible_ guardian.

He never had a chance to take the top off the whiskey when he was slammed in the back of the head, pain blossoming from the back and spreading throughout his skull. His instincts put his body on autopilot and made him spin around, clutching at the back of his head and hunched over, trying to get a look at his assailant.

His eyes were still black around the edges and his vision was dancing with spots. Unable to get more than a black shape from in front of him he cried out when pain blossomed in his gut. He felt like his insides had been ripped out and slid to the floor, body smacking against the cold tiles.

When his vision cleared he was choking on his gasps for air, pain clenching throughout his stomach, making it too painful for his lungs to inflate to their full capacity. He moaned at the sight of a knife handle sticking out of his chest and slowly raised a hand, pulling on it slightly to slide the blade out.

He screamed out in pain as it stuck, coughing as he choked on more air. It wasn't going to come out. The assailant had obviously made a quick getaway and cut power to the house on their way out. He pulled himself to his feet, screaming out as his gut clenched and fumbled with red hands across the bench top for the phone.

He was loosing too much blood.

He pressed the buttons twice, then three times before finally registering that nothing was happening. The power was out. The phone wouldn't work. "Fuck," he groaned out, stumbling out of the kitchen, slipping in his own blood that had pooled on the floor.

His boots slopped as he limped his way toward the staircase, leaving bloodied hand prints behind as he grasped the wall for support. Why did he leave his cell upstairs? Of all the times...

He stopped half way to catch his break, his vision swimming. He was losing too much blood. Even if he managed to call an ambulance, they wouldn't make it in time. He was going to die. He glanced down at his ring, breathing heavily. There was no saying that whoever it was that stabbed him was supernatural. He never saw their face and since their prime suspect at the moment was Meredith Fell...he really might die.

He forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and keep climbing the stairs. He had to get to his phone. He needed Damon. Damon could snap his neck, then he'd be assured to wake up again – it was the only way.

It was a relief to finally reach the second story landing and he collapsed to the ground, legs no longer willing to hold him up. He dragged himself the rest of the way to his room, no doubt leaving bloody trails on the floorboards behind him.

He cried out when the knife shifted in his gut as he stretched to reach his cell phone on the bedside table. He'd never had a death more painful than this. Shakily he made his fingers put pressure on the keys, dialling a number he knew off by heart.

"Come on," he whispered, "come on." He didn't know what diabolical plan Damon was up to tonight besides the obvious opening of the special coffin, but surely it could wait for him to take _one_ phone call. Just one important phone call.

"_The person you have called is not available._"

"Fuck!" He yelled out, his temper getting the best of him as he dialled the number again. What could be so damn important? Of course Damon didn't know he was dying but he hadn't spoken to the damn vampire in like a week – obviously if he was calling it was important.

"_The person you have called is not available." _

Probably too busy getting chummy with Elijah, Alaric thought bitterly, gasping as the pain in his chest increased. He'd have to call Elena instead, she was supernatural right? It was the only way. Bonnie was busy with the coffins, Stefan was no longer on their side...he'd just have to pray she wasn't far away because he didn't have much time left, he could feel it slipping away.

He began to hit Elena's speed-dial when his fingers slipped, feeling numb and cold as the phone dropped out of his hand, no longer able to grasp it. He struggled to move, to stretch just that little bit further and pick up the phone but every time he moved, it twisted the blade just a little bit further and Ric could feel a little more warm blood spill over his stomach and onto the floor.

His vision was darkening at the edges and he started to think about what would happen when he was gone. Who would take care of Elena and Jeremy? Who would watch over all of them? Defend them when more supernatural creatures descended on Mystic Falls.

How would losing him effect them? Especially Elena, could she stand to lose another parental figure? He wasn't so sure...and what about Damon? Would he even care that Alaric had died...for good this time?

His vision blurred and he shivered.

"Ric? Ric! Oh my god, Ric!"

He looked up blearily only half aware of what was going on. Elena. "Elena?" He gasped out, frowning as her hands hovered frantically over his stomach, not knowing what to do.

"Oh god, oh god."

"He's lost a lot of blood Elena." That was Matt, Matt was here too, in the doorway. But Matt wasn't supernatural, he was only human.

Matt wasn't supernatural...but Elena was.

"Elena!" He gasped out, trying to make sense of the way his mind was spinning, his mouth forming words but not having the effort to actually spit them out.

"Kill me." He moaned, reaching out to touch her arm. "Kill me."

Elena looked at him wide eyed, tears spilling over onto her cheeks as she glanced from his face down to his ring. "No, no I can't."

He gasped again. This was it. "You have to Elena."

Matt spoke up from the hallway then. "Elena, he's lost too much blood...he won't make it."

He couldn't hear them anymore, could barely focus on Elena's face, he waited and waited, expecting to see his life flashing before his eyes. He wished he could see Damon one last time...and punch him for being such a dick. Why did he even like the guy? Damn vampires.

He wasn't dead enough yet to ignore the agony of being stabbed again – this time through the heart with a butcher's knife. He screamed out, his throat raw and his chest on fire, back arching before collapsing back down again, blacking out.

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><p>When Ric awoke he shot up, gasping for air and clawing at his chest, before falling back against the floorboards again, exhausted. His mind reeled for a moment before he could put together what had happened.<p>

"Thank god, Ric!" Elena was hugging him. She pulled back, "I thought you were dead for good this time. I was so scared."

He tried to smile but it really just came out as a wince. He pulled off his bloodstained shirt, looking down at his healed over chest, running his hand over where he knew two fatal stabbing wounds had been just hours before.

"I called Damon but he didn't answer," Elena spoke up and Ric raised an eyebrow. Ignoring him was one thing but Elena too? Maybe something big _was_ going down tonight that they didn't know about...Elijah had just woken up after all, not that any of that made Ric any less _pissed_ about it.

"So I called Sheriff Forbes too, she says that Meredith Fell is in surgery and has been for hours."

That one was interesting. He hadn't seen his assailant of course but he had been sure before he was attacked that it was Dr. Fell. All the evidence pointed toward her. Anyone who crossed her had been killed – the 'psycho' ex boyfriend, Caroline's father who had offended her 'special' medical practises and now Ric, who _maybe _she _knew_ had led her on. She had seemed kind of obsessed with him, if she realised that he had only been using her...

Ric groaned. "Okay, so we're back to square one." They looked at each other silently for a moment before Ric shook his head – this was all a bit too much for them right now. "Let's go to bed and forget about it. We'll talk in the morning."

Elena hesitated but nodded, reaching out and pulling him into a hug. "I'm so glad you're ok, Ric."

Alaric sighed, holding her tightly then because just maybe, she was all he had left too.

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><p>Hours later, when he'd been lying awake, tossing and turning for so long he'd given up on sleep, he heard a rustling from the hallway. He stiffened, still mindful of the ghost-pains in his chest cavity from a wound his body was insisting was there but had disappeared.<p>

Still tense, he strained his ears, flicking the sheets off when he certain that he had heard movement, he went to stand up but stopped short at the sound of his door quietly creaking open.

"You rang?" Damon was standing, arms crossed, two feet into his room, running his eyes up and down Ric's half naked body appreciatively.

"It's a bit late Damon," Ric spat, sending him a dark glare across the room before getting back into bed. "It doesn't matter anymore."

Damon frowned at that, moving to stand over him. "We got one up on Klaus today," he offered, "it was a good move trusting Elijah."

Ric snorted, feeling fire rise in his veins. "Why don't you go bother Elijah then? And leave me the fuck alone!"

He had little to no warning before he was forcibly removed from his bed and crashing into the floor. As he sprung up to his feet, glaring angrily, Damon commented spitefully, "what crawled up your ass tonight?"

Alaric brought his arm up and sent his fist flying towards Damon's face, wishing for once that vampire speed didn't exist and he could have clocked him one instead of having his fist caught and himself reeled in and immobilised against Damon's chest.

He struggled futilely for a moment before bringing his foot around and sweeping Damon's feet out from under him, sending them both crashing to the floor. They regained their footing at the same time, glaring across the room at each other.

Alaric was fuming. "I almost fucking died tonight, you asshole!"

Damon threw his arms in the air, shooting back sarcastically, "you die all the time! What's the big deal?"

"No, I nearly _died_." Alaric says darkly, "for _good_." Damon looks shocked at that and he continued, "if Elena hadn't come home when she did I'd be dead on the floor with a knife in my gut."

They stared at each other for a moment in silence, Ric's heavy breathing the only sound reverberating across the room.

"Ric..." Damon begins, looking apologetic and Alaric throws up hand to silence him.

"Just go, Damon." He doesn't look at him, doesn't want to know what he's thinking or feeling, he just wants him gone.

He can hear Damon shuffle closer then, one step at a time until he's standing right in front of him and damn it if he can't help but look up.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to save you." It's soft and an apology and he knows he can't ask for more than that and the look of regret in Damon's eyes...but he wants to. It's not good enough.

"Don't worry about it," he sighs tiredly, "just...go."

He doesn't even know himself why he's pushing Damon away when all he's wanted this last week was to have him around. Damon frowns but nods silently and turns to walk away. He's halfway down the staircase when Ric comes running, colliding with his solid form and slamming his lips to his.

He lets Damon take control, working furiously on the buttons of the vampire's shirt as they stumble step by step back the way they came and Ric forcibly drags him into the bedroom.

Go? He meant stay. He really, _really_ meant stay.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I actually meant to update Delijah today, but as soon as I opened a new document this came spewing out in vibrant technicolour. My fangirl heart is so confused! Dalaric? Delijah? Dalaric? Delijah? Please tell me I'm not the only one with conflicting feelings? Gah!


	5. Dead Again, For Good This Time

I don't care what the world says. In my mind they're gay together and that's just that. Um, yeah, this one's the final chapter...take note of the title. Yep. *Don't throw things at me yet.

**Warnings:** Ric has a potty mouth.

**Disclaimer:** I'm writing fanfiction. Enough said.

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><p><em>Dead, Again.<em>

_(For Good This Time.)  
><em>

* * *

><p>He's sitting at the island in the kitchen, drinking his morning coffee and wondering what in the hell could possibly go wrong this week in Mystic Falls. Well, more wrong, that is. With the revelation of the original witch's allegiance which Elena had revealed to him last night, he wasn't quite sure whether things were going to get better or worse.<p>

He was glad he hadn't attended the 'Winter Gala' or whatever it was they were calling it, the previous night because from the way Elena spoke Damon had gone completely off the reservation (and from the way she withheld details, a lot had happened between the two of them).

He wanted Elena to be happy, honestly, he did. He was supposed to be her parental figure and want what was best for her, regardless of how it affected him. Though what was best for her _was_ Stefan right…? Come on! A love like theirs never dies right? Or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

He knew that the flame Damon held for Elena still burnt every bit as bright as it always had and to be honest he thought if it came down to a decision between her and himself…he knew who Damon would pick. Alaric was just his dirty little secret…and he _hated _it.

He wasn't an idiot, he knew the last night they'd been together that his room wasn't the first Damon had been to. He knew that the vampire had visited Elena's room first. He knew that he'd gone to check on her, to make sure she was alright before he'd decided to drop in on Ric. He knew.

But that didn't make it any easier.

He was second best in Damon's eyes, which was ironic because the vampire himself would always be second best in Elena's. Ric sighed out loud, he was trying so hard not to be bitter but it just wasn't going to work.

His coffee was now lukewarm and he frowned, getting up to tip it down the drain. Elena had left this morning with nothing but a short explanation of "going to see Damon" and Ric had watched her rush out the door, leaving him alone to an empty house.

He could see it in his mind's eye, Elena would show up at the boarding house, apologise for whatever it was that she had said or done to upset him and the idiot of a vampire that he was Damon would take her word straight away and continue to be strung along. Alaric loved Elena, she was family, but she really lacked the ability to realise how her actions were affecting others.

The subject of his thoughts stormed through the doorway then, slamming it behind her, boots clunking as she practically ran up the hallway.

"Hey, hey, hey!" He called out after her, darting out into the hall to catch up. He looked up at her as she stopped midway up the staircase, visibly rattled. "What's going on?" He asked, "Did you find Damon?"

He frowned as her expression turned angry and she spat out, "Oh I found him alright, he was just escorting his bed buddy out."

While the rapid beating of his heart went unknown to Elena, along with the sharp contraction in his chest, he couldn't contain the widening of his eyes as he breathed out, "what?" Unable to move from his spot in the hallway, he was glad he hadn't been holding onto his coffee mug still because he surely would have dropped it.

"Yeah," Elena sad sarcastically, before taking a deep breath and visibly calming herself. "I'm sorry, Ric," she said apologetically, "I don't mean to take it out on you."

He finally found a way to move his feet, coming around the hall and up the staircase to stop a few feet in front of her. "No, Elena, it's okay," he said quietly, forcing himself to put on a brave face. For fuck's sake, he thought to himself, he shouldn't be surprised, he shouldn't be _upset_. He should know better than to get involved with damn vampires by now anyway.

"It was Rebekah," she murmured so softly he almost didn't catch it. His jaw dropped and she raised her voice, stating strongly this time; "He was just escorting Rebekah out…in her clothes from last night."

He was hesitant to broach the subject but now he just had to know. "What happened last night, Elena?" He asked awkwardly, gulping a deep breath of air as he waited for her response.

"Ric…" She looked at him sadly. "I'm just not ready to talk about it, you know?"

He looked up at her with an understanding face. _No, I don't know. I need to know what happened last night. _While his thoughts ran rampant his mouth formed the words, "sure, Elena." And he reached forward, pulling her into a hug.

As he clutched her tightly he realised the hug was not for her benefit but rather, for his. He was feeling a little…broken. Though he'd never admit it out loud. He just needed to know somebody cared. He didn't want to be alone.

"Thanks, Ric." Elena said, pulling away. "I have to go and see Bonnie and Caroline," she continued up the stairs, oblivious to his inner torment. "We need to talk about Esther."

He nodded and silently descended the staircase, back into the living room where he collapsed, boneless, on the couch. He glared at the wall across from him, imagining the ways he could kill Damon. A small part of him wondered what it was that set him off but the larger, more dominant part was screaming why couldn't Damon come to him? Why fuck some original vampire when he was right here – his best fucking friend.

Hate was a strong word, but the feeling was encroaching on him slowly. He was _sick_ of being fucked around by these fucking vampires.

To be honest if he weren't feeling responsible for Elena or if she had someone else to look after her then he would have left Mystic Falls behind already, all the damned town had brought him was trouble.

His cell phone buzzed from his pocket, just as Elena bounded down the staircase and out the door with a "later Ric!" and he sighed, pulling it out and hesitating when he saw the number. _Meredith calling_.

He was sceptical of Doctor Fell now, to be honest. He had reason to believe she was the one who stabbed him in the gut that night. Logically all the clues pointed to her but he had no evidence.

Then again, this could all just be some crazy coincidence right? Because she didn't seem like a psychopath to him and Ric had definitely seen his fair share to be able to identify one from miles away.

Spontaneously he slid the arrow on his screen across at the last moment, answering the phone on it's final ring.

"Hey Ric!" Her cheery voice called from the other side and he bristled a little at the nickname. What if it was her? What if she had stabbed him and here she was pretending to be all friendly and calling him 'Ric'?

"Hi Meredith…" He tensed as it came out awkwardly and forced himself to relax a little. She didn't seem to notice his slip though.

"So look, I was wondering if you were free to meet today, maybe at the Grill?" He glanced at his watch and noticed it was already afternoon, having woken up late, the morning had flown by and he was a little out of sorts.

He thought about his answer for only a few seconds before blurting out, "sure, why not?" And confirming the details with her before hanging up after a cheerful 'see you soon'.

He didn't want to be alone. He needed someone to talk to – not someone to necessarily confide in because he had no one he could trust with his thoughts anymore but just someone who he could have a conversation with and try and assure himself he wasn't alone.

So he went to the Grill. With Meredith Fell.

He hadn't intended for it to be anything more than light conversation and a drink or two, his suspicions being as they were now, he really didn't want to encourage her to think there was a chance of anything more than friendship between them.

That had been his intentions anyway. How the night had turned out well, that was a whole other story.

He'd been at the bar talking to the not-so-good doctor (if his suspicions were correct) when his cell phone had once again began to buzz in his pocket. Upon drawing it out and reading the name _Damon_ come up in bold across the screen he froze, finger hovering above the arrow and debating whether or not to answer.

He supposed it could be important considering you never knew when a disaster was going down in this town and if it weren't in fact an emergency then he'd just tell Damon to fuck off, plain and simple.

He sighed, answering the call and raising it to his ear.

"Have you seen Elena today?" Are the first words out of his mouth and Alaric considers hanging up right then and there, but he doesn't. He simply grits his teeth and replies with false neutrality.

"No, I haven't seen her since this morning."

Damon grunts from the other end, "well she's not answering her phone."

Alaric's eyes narrow then and he replies sarcastically, "well I'm surprised you have time to call what with all this original sex you've been having."

There's silence on the other end of the line for a moment and he awards himself a point. It's not often that he wins those against Damon Salvatore.

"Ugh, she told you about that?" The wince is audible in his voice and Alaric glares darkly, as if his expression will be visible on the other end of the line.

"Oh she told me."

Damon decides to do what he does best then and ignore the elephant in the room completely, countering with, "did she tell you that she's also having an attack of conscious about this original murder thing?"

"Hey!" He growls, "I'm not gonna judge her for having a conscious." Fucking vampires.

"Well you don't have to judge her," Damon replies, "just tie her up, lock her in a room til this is all over."

He almost lets out a resentful comment of, since when do you care about Elena? You're fucking Rebekah now! But he knows that would just be counter-productive at this point and the last thing he wants at this moment in time is for Damon to know how much he's affected him. He doesn't want the vampire to realise that he's walked all over him – that Ric has let him.

"Well, I would if I could but I can't – I'm busy." He replies and looks over where Meredith is casually listening to his half of the conversation. He's a little creeped out by that and a little suspicious that she seems to know what is bugging him.

Call him crazy but if she knew what she seemed to, about him and Damon, then that felt a little less like women's intuition and a little more crazy stalker.

"Busy doing what?" Damon asks suspiciously and Ric remains silent, refusing to answer.

The fact that he doesn't clues Damon in immediately and Ric marvels at the fact that the vampire knows him so well but still stomps all over him. Maybe he just doesn't care?

"Are you with the sexy, psycho doctor?"

He tries to tell himself that the question isn't how it sounds. That the undertones he's detecting in Damon's voice aren't real and it's all just his imagination, because Damon doesn't _care_. And it works – for the most part.

It's solid enough for him to say flatly, "goodbye Damon" and hang up the phone.

When Damon next calls him again he really wants to tell him to go to hell but when he hears that Elena has been taken as the official original family hostage he knows he has to put his shit to the side and work with the vampires to save her. The fact that Klaus and Kol had entered the bar earlier should have clued him in to something going on anyway.

He manages to go the entire night as usual, working with the team to get the supernatural crap done but when it gets to the point where he comes face to face with Damon he freezes for a minute, staring blankly into icy blue. He tells himself he's imagining the tinge of regret he sees there and his assumption is made easier by the fact that Damon barely bats an eyelash in greeting, getting straight back to the point of saving Elena.

He tries not to be bitter because that's where his head should be at too, but he's a horrible person.

He obviously wasn't handling it as well as he thought because he went home with Meredith to her apartment. Stupid move he knew. Well at the time he wasn't overly concerned, his mind still going round and round the whole Elena fiasco plus Damon and Rebekah.

He was however smart enough to realise he was in deep shit when he wandered into the kitchen in search of medication and found crime scene documents and missing evidence sprawled across the bench top.

He had his phone in his hand and his finger poised over Damon's name when he heard a gun cock behind him. He turns to see Meredith aiming the firearm grimly.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

He dives to his left as she fires, completely taken off guard but his natural reflexes still kicking in, he's been a vampire hunter a pretty long time now. While his brain was ticking over in slow motion, calculating his next move, a searing pain blossomed in the side of his head causing him to lose all rational thought.

He'd been too late he realises seconds, maybe minutes later as he's sprawled across the hard kitchen floor, hot blood running thickly down his face and onto the ground. He could taste it in his mouth – he was choking on it. He was too late.

He was actually going to die this time, for real. Meredith as far as he knew wasn't any kind of supernatural creature. He was going to die. Shot in the head.

He could register her voice speaking from above him but the world was blurring together and he couldn't process the sounds into words. The only thing he was acutely aware of before he lost consciousness was the blinking numbers on his cell phone a metre away on the floor where it had fallen, the time ticking away on the call he'd just managed to push through as he went down.

His world went black and he knew without a doubt what his one regret was.

* * *

><p>Alaric groaned out loud as he opened his burning eyes, his lids twitching as the artificial light above him flooded his retinas. He winced, screwing them closed again, head rolling back. What had happened.<p>

"Ric? Ric!" He wanted to ignore it, he really did. It was Damon and for some reason he was…annoyed with him? Ha, when wasn't he.

"Damon?" He groaned, opening his eyes. As he stared into crystal blue memories of the night came rushing back. Damon slept with Rebekah. Meredith. The grill, Damon and the originals. Meredith's apartment, the pictures – Meredith shot him! Meredith shot him in the head and he died…was she a supernatural creature?

He shoved Damon's supporting hands away, scrambling into a sitting position, eyes darting frantically across the room before settling on a body a few metres away…a headless body to be exact, a pool of coagulated blood surrounding it. Meredith was most definitely dead.

Oh god.

He breathed heavily for a minute, looking over to Damon in panic. "What was she? I'm alive so what was she?" He takes a hand and runs it over his forehead, specifically the right side where he knew a bullet had killed him, clearly not that long ago.

"Ric," Damon says neutrally, "don't freak out." He stares wide eyed at Damon in confusion then. Why would he freak out? Why was Damon even talking like that? Where was the sarcasm? The swagger? What the hell was going on here?

He tried to stand, vertigo taking over once he reached his feet, swaying him from side to side. He felt Damon take hold of his side, steadying him and resisted the urge to look up gratefully, instead focusing on the decapitated body on the ground. He expected to feel bile rise in his stomach at the amount of blood absolutely covering the kitchen floor, but he didn't.

All he feel was his mouth _aching_. He should feel remorse, feel bad for the clearly terrible death Damon had befallen on the doctor for shooting him but he doesn't, he doesn't even feel disgust at the corpse. All he feels is…hungry.

And then it clicks in his head.

"No." He looks up at Damon, the vampire's sad expression cluing him in as he bites his lip. "No."

He shakes his head. "No, no, no, no, _no_!" He pushes Damon away, nearly choking on his protests.

"You were going to die Ric," Blue eyes pierce into him. "I was too late to save you."

He looks at the body on the floor then back to Damon, covering his face with his hands. "No!" He moans, "I don't want to be a vampire."

Damon pulls his hands away then, "What was I supposed to do? Let you die?" The brunette takes his hand softly, pulling him forward and out of the dead doctor's kitchen.

He pulls him out the door and onto the street. Alaric follows silently, being pulled along by the hand though the darkness, mind whirring. He doesn't want this. He can't do this. He can't.

This was never in his plan.

One minute he's beginning to shake and the next everything is blurring around him and he's being deposited in the boarding house living room. Damon is in front of him then with a blood bag. B positive.

"Drink." He says, holding the plastic bag out toward him and Alaric slaps it away sharply, sending it flying across the room.

"No!" He snarls.

"If you don't drink, you'll die!" Damon yells as if the history teacher isn't already aware of the consequences.

"Then I'll die." He says quietly, pulling his legs up underneath him and sitting back on the couch on his haunches.

Damon stared at him blankly.

"Leave me be, Damon." He stares up at the brunette. "Just leave me to sleep and I won't wake up."

An unidentifiable emotion fills the vampire's eyes then and Alaric barely has time to react before Damon's on top of him, wrenching his mouth open painfully and pouring the contents of the back in, holding his nose together so he has no choice but to swallow.

Alaric snarls, shoving at him but he's no match for Damon's supernatural strength and the vampire barely moves an inch.

When he pulls away, leaving the rest of the bags contents to splash across the ground he allows Ric to shove at him, to punch him and scream.

"Why?" He yelled. "You can't just take my _choice_ away Damon!"

Damon glared back at him, "if you're going to make stupid decisions then you don't get a choice!"

"As if you care!" Alaric exploded. "You're just turning me so that you've always got someone to fuck whenever Elena rejects you!" He glared, "oh wait, you have Rebekah for that now, so I guess I'm useless anyway."

He breathes heavily as he Damon stares back at him icily.

"Fuck you, Ric."

Alaric blinks. Did he seriously think he had the right to be mad at him? Over what?

"You have got to be kidding me," Ric spits out. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just stake myself as soon as the transition's complete."

The room falls silent.

Alaric glares before turning to walk out of the room. He should know not to expect anything. He was just setting himself up for failure.

"Because I _need_ you." Damon calls from behind him and he freezes with one foot out the door. "I need you Ric."

Alaric turned to face him, unmoved from his position. "And why should I even care Damon?" He asks tiredly, staring into crystal blue and allowing himself to get his hopes up one last time.

Moments later lips are crashing onto his and he moans, but pushes the vampire away reluctantly.

"Please." Damon grits out and Alaric bites his lip.

"No," he says softly, looking to the ground vulnerably.

"I can't do forever with you if you're always going to be in love with her and it's always going to be her Damon."

They both know who 'her' is, it's Elena, it's Katherine and it's everything in between. It's that eternal want for a love that strong and a normal life, the human ideal that he never wants to let go of.

He wasn't sure if the familiar words struck something in Damon or maybe it was the fact that the hunter was close to tears for the first time since Jenna died, but Damon merely looks him in the eye reassuringly.

"She's not always going to be there Ric." Damon murmurs and they both know it's the truth, Elena will never turn – she'll die when her human lifespan runs out or sooner. But the way it's said has Ric's heart clenching. She won't always be there, but he'll love her for as long as she is.

"I don't _want_ to be second best Damon. I can't be." _I can't be your dirty little secret on the side anymore._

"You won't be, I promise." They both know that's a lie and that he can't promise that at all, but it's followed up by a quiet plead.

"Stay with me…_please_."

And he has him. Hook line and sinker.

As usual Alaric caves to the baby blues he's staring into and grips the vampire's arms tightly, telling himself that maybe it'll be different this time around.

It has to be.

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><p><strong>AN:** So...?

Maybe an epilogue to come. What do you think?


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